


He's Not

by sirnando



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 19:16:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3821737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirnando/pseuds/sirnando
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cristiano isn't- that. James suspects he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He's Not

See Cristiano wasn’t one to adapt quickly. He liked talking to people and having friends of course, but he needed time, needed space. It was highly unlikely that he’d spark up a conversation with a stranger, unless they started first. And even then he’d probably look at them oddly but smile and respond, which was what he was taught. That was probably why it took him almost three years to finally end up with James. He wasn’t shy, he needed comfort to open up. Exactly the opposite of James.

He was open, he was nice, funny. People drifted towards him (they drifted towards Cristiano as well, but were repelled when he offered nothing in return). So inevitably people surrounded James all the time. It's not like he asked for it, it just happened. (Although he didn't mind).

But Cristiano. He minded. He wasn't jealous of course, no way. He was never jealous. It was just - irritating. Irritating that he had to reach for James through crowded bodies every single time he had a question. He shared a bed with that guy, he had a right to be by his side all the time. Yet some people didn't understand the term "boyfriend" and the requirements it asked of others. And James didn't seem to know either.

~

Usually Cristiano would make an effort to push through all the hands and legs and sweaty bodies, end up squished next to James, cheek pressed into his cheek. And usually James would disperse his little fan clan with a wave of his hand because he couldn't understand what Cristiano was trying to say. But lately James stopped dispersing them as quickly. So Cristiano stopped pushing.

Like ok whatever James can talk to others, no big deal, and it wasn't like he belonged to him but, but come on? 

At first James didn't notice. He concluded that maybe Cristiano had nothing to say. (Which was unusual because knowing Cristiano he had the most random topics to discuss at the exact moments when James was busy with the most people. It was always a coincidence though). 

Cristiano prowled on the sides of course, sometimes looking at James and - them. But other times Sergio and Iker would keep him company. Asking him irrelevant questions since he seemed to lack his own.

They'd ask sometimes, why he looked mad, sad, disappointed. But he'd always brush it off and say this was how he always felt like. Nothing was wrong. One time Sergio had used the j- word, as a joke of course (he always made the wrong jokes) and Cristiano glared at him for a full three minutes before leaving them behind. So no one used that word anymore, passed it along quietly to never mention it in front of him. Surprisingly, James was never reached.

Which was a lie, because it had reached him, but he never brought it up. Cristiano? Jealous? His Cristiano? It didn't seem plausible that'd he'd ever get jealous. There was nothing to get that way over, it was just James, he wasn't anything special.

So he never mentioned it and he also didn't notice Cristiano's lack of questions and Cristiano grew more - whatever it was he was.

~ 

They had a usual routine before games. Or at least they used to. It was just a hug, for 45 seconds to be exact. Neither of them remembered why it was 45 seconds, something about their first meeting, but every time Cristiano would time it with the clock installed on the wall and every time James would refuse to let go. And every time Cristiano would start laughing, followed by James and they'd waste more time than they had planned on.

It was only a hug because Cristiano claimed anything else too affectionate would get him disoriented and unfocused. (But I kiss you on the cheek after every single goal, James would argue and Cristiano claimed that was different). 

A hug would be nice at this point. He didn't get any of that now because James was too busy socializing. Wishing everyone else good luck, telling them they'd be fine. Shaking hands with the opposing players beyond the wall. Patting mascots' heads. Cristiano didn't understand the necessity. Like yeah, doing it one time before a game, even more than once, would be nice. Very polite and good natured. But every single time? To him, all of that lost its meaning if done too much. Same person too, that would get irritating. (Though it was very difficult to get tired of James, Cristiano would admit.)

Still. Cristiano never got a good -fucking- luck from him.

~

If he scored (which was extremely often) James was still plastered into his side. Otherwise Cristiano would've gone- he would be somewhat mad. Nothing too major though of course. The only annoying thing (he could handle it of course, no big deal) was that people were always around. Again. They never fucking left it seemed to Cristiano. Had everyone magically forgotten about privacy?

Sometimes (if it was a lucky day), they got that privacy on the bus. After the games when everyone, even Marcelo, were too tired to fool around or crack stupid jokes, too tired to stay huddled around James and pester him with questions, just to keep the conversation going it seemed. Only then James had the opportunity to pick the arm rest up and splay himself out on Cristiano's lap. And Cristiano took that opportunity to mess James' well gelled hair up (it was already screwy, he'd explain when the latter complained. But he never really was that angry). On the extremely lucky days, if it was a long ride that is, James would fall asleep and Cristiano would amuse himself with tickling his nose and watching it scrunch up. Sometimes he'd get looks from Iker (why was he laughing randomly?), but no one else bothered themselves. The main attraction was asleep, so who really cared.

Out of a month, those types of events happened about twice. Twice not enough, but not too little to make him go insane. He learned to enjoy the darkness more because that's when they ended up alone. Sunny days equaled chaos. Cristiano hated the sun (besides James of course).

~

Cristiano had sporadic fits of panic. James is forgetting, James doesn't care, James doesn't want to be here. They usually happened behind closed doors after bad days (meaning a record- setting small amount of contact). He never wanted people to see those, that would be even worse than the fit itself. But they happened, and he got over them. And James never really did those things he feared of.

Team dinners grew to be his favorite. Because, as always, James was swarmed (thought modestly, he called it, because there were assigned seats and no one could get too close). ((People scooted closer than normal)). The only difference was that, James was always next to Cristiano, he himself scooting his chair closer, and Cristiano scooting closer so that they were basically sitting on one another. It happened every single time (that was also one of the things Cristiano replayed in his head over and over during his fits). And, contrarily to other occasions where Cristiano couldn’t find his way to James, if someone started talking too much or laughing too much or prying for James' attention too much, James would wrap his leg around Cristiano's and press his shoulder into his. He'd notice that Cristiano loosened up, but never thought to ask why. He didn't hear Cris exhale.

Before things got more chaotic (and Cristiano grew more- something), Cris thought it'd only be proper if he assured James he was still involved (extremely) in the relationship as well. Shoulder squeezes and tiny smiles across the field, ear tugs and butt pinches. Everything to make sure James didn't grow reluctant or panic (which was more ironic than anything but).

Now he didn't. There was no point, when he noticed, if he even noticed at all, Cristiano didn't get anything in return. Any reassurance. So what was the point in doing it? The crowd never dispersed, so Cris grew sourer than before.

Sometimes he had the urge to slap him, but he always withheld himself (really, he just couldn't find the heart to, he'd never hurt him). It was pathetic to be so affected, he knew that. But somehow he never could not be affected. So instead he reserved to his silent treatment and lack of trying, because keeping your mouth shut made it less likely for something unneeded to slip out.

~

James felt guilty only after he finally realized that Cristiano was keeping his distance, therefore he felt even more guilty for not noticing.

It had crossed his mind sometimes that Cris was lacking in presence but he always assumed he was busy with something (assuming was a horrible thing to do). 

He decided that maybe he should figure it out, it was the proper thing to do since he didn't want to lose him (biggest fear, really). But Cristiano was already too far along in his silent treatment spree for it to end with one talk. (Though it did shock him into almost ending it).

"Are you ok?" it was a measly excuse for concern, but others were around and it was odd to become affectionate right away.

Cristiano shook his head, didn't offer any eye contact.

"Are you sure?" he nudged his elbow lightly, tried smiling but Cristiano didn't look so he missed it.

He received another nod. So he walked away, because it wasn't that big of a deal (it couldn't be, could it?). He'd try again later when they were alone, which was a lie already because James, he was never alone. Even he was aware of that.

Cristiano looked at him from the corner of his eye for the rest of practice, half expecting another attempt from James and getting halfway to disappointment when it didn't happen.  
~

You’d think James got a break in the shower, but- he didn't. There were some positives to having them there, because they'd pass the soap to him or change the water temperature if he ever hissed lightly. But then again, he missed reaching for the soap. And sometimes his water was the perfect temperature, he'd hissed because of a pang of pain, and then he couldn't set it to the correct one anymore.

That’s why he didn’t have a chance to go over to Cris during the shower. A) he was far off and b) if he pushed through the people like he usually did there was the hazard of falling. (Although hurting himself might elicit a reaction from him, so maybe that wasn't the worst idea?) Although before he could act upon that plan, Cristiano had his towel wrapped around his hips, leaving.

"Cristiano!" James called, shoved the arms and legs and ran after him to the locker room. The cleaning people would be mad, he left wet splatters all over the floor.

Cristiano didn't respond automatically, only after he pulled his underwear on did he turn around to James who was panting, but waiting patiently.

"Do- do you may- maybe wanna come ov- over toda-day?" he asked breathing heavily. Cris was stone serious.

"Busy. You're naked." And James knew something felt colder than before, but he could've sworn he grabbed his towel on the way out.

"How about-" he started, red-faced, but Cristiano had pulled the rest of his clothes on and began moving away. He brushed some of the suds off of James' shoulder though, so at least there was something.

~

James lay in bed that night, assuring himself that everything was fine. He couldn’t panic because their game was tomorrow.

Cris was having a bad day, that's all that it was (although he did always tell James about his shit days and expect consoling --) no. It was ok, no big deal.

Cristiano on the other hand wondered all night what had instilled the change of character in James. Not that he was too affected. The dark circles under his eyes just meant he'd ate too much before bed.

~

It wasn't awkward, per say, on the bus the next morning. They were in their usual spots (that fucking crowd of course there too). Cristiano didn't feel obliged to apologize or spark up a conversation. He was on the silent treatment of course, he had tried numerous times before.

James shifted in his seat, but never failed to answer the questions or contribute to the conversation all the other players were shooting at him. He was nervous and confused, but not enough to be rude.

But then, because he didn’t give up easily especially when it came to Cris because Cris was the most important thing, he tried wrapping his leg with his.

"Tried" because Cristiano recoiled and crossed that leg over the other.

And James gave up.

~

Neither of them scored during the game. It was a 5-0 shootout, but neither of them had the opportunity (they had plenty, they just missed). Benzema approached Cristiano, asking him what had happened, why he had 20 shots but none of them made the cut.

Cristiano tended to make his decisions universal, meaning they applied to everyone and everything around him. So he shrugged and left Karim in the dust, along with James who had tried to catch up and say something, not really knowing what.

~

He had a hard time deciding whether he should go through with his plan. It was a harsh one, yet seemingly necessary. It was not that big of a deal if he did it, (he knew damn well it was). So with his backpack hanging over his shoulder, one hand in his pocket, tongue pushing his bottom lip out, he sat down next to Iker on the bus. Kicking Sergio out of his designated area, but he didn't fight. Cristiano changing his routine was never a good sign.

 

James came onto the bus, repeating under his breath the speech he'd planned out in his head, what he was going to say, how he'd form his lips, what his hands would be doing. How Cris would most likely respond and how to counter it. But he stopped mid sentence when the seat next to his was empty, and Cristiano was across the aisle, eyes closed, headphones in.

His hand reached out to tap his shoulder, but he jerked it back and sat in Cristiano's usually seat. Looking out the window would hopefully withhold the sensation of complete panic.

~

Truthfully, Cristiano's stomach butterflies had disappeared a long time ago. The ones that popped up whenever they stretched together of course. Therefore he didn't find it too hard to find a new partner.

Somehow, James knew he was going to be left straggling the next day. He wasn't left alone in the literal sense, because some people were too willing to take up Cristiano's vacant position. He didn't want any of them though. It was only comfortable when Cris grabbed his thighs and forearms. Only ok if he was the one pushing him to the ground.

He chose Isco from the crowd, since he was usually the most - calm, out of all of the people who followed him around. Nice and calm.

But James was wrong. Not in the nice or calm sense, but in the normal sense. Because the second James was on the ground and Isco grabbed his ankle, his eyes grew wide to the point where it was fucking creepy and James was forced to clench his teeth and dare not look up.

He twisted his head to the side and observed Cristiano who was pretending to not glance back occasionally (it was weird letting someone else touch James).

Cristiano pretended to not glance back and was convinced it was working.

~

Over the one and half years that they'd been together, James had accumulated many articles of Cristiano's clothing. They were usually a size or two too big, but he still took them. Sweatshirts and t-shirts and sweatpants and underwear and sometimes even socks. He usually didn't wear them in public, some people thought it was because he was embarrassed, but in reality he was deathly afraid that he'd get them dirty or lose them. He didn't want Cristiano to get mad. But Cris, he wished that James wore them more often. Who cared if something happened to those things- James looked pretty hot. But he never expressed his emotions.

Coincidentally, the next training day was somewhat colder so James threw on one of the sweatshirts he'd gotten from Cris. It'd been there for so long he thought it was his at this point, he didn't do it on purpose (sort of).

Cristiano squinted from across the locker room when James came in, he forgot to put his contacts in. He'd forgotten that James had that thing. Or at least that's what it looked like. He couldn't exactly tell.

The one mishap he had though, was during stretching when Isco was once again acting abnormally and James had his head shifted in stress, Cristiano did his little glance thing. He was unable to see James' face clearly though, so James kept his head tilted and Cristiano kept staring without knowing. It calmed James somewhat. At least there was some- accidental- recognition.

~

It gave him courage, those random stares. So after training he waited it out by his locker. Waited till most all of the crowd had left because they were getting itchy from the sweat and wanted to clean up, yet James did not seem to be willing. But he was waiting for Cristiano in reality, who had lately been showering last and leaving last as well.

So when basically everyone was gone and Cristiano took his chance to jump under the shower, James followed.

He was only two shower spaces away, yet Cristiano being blind and all, didn't notice. Jumped slightly when James spoke up.

"You know, it's bad to strain your eyes like that."

Cris shrugged like always.

"That's not an answer."

"What’s not an answer?"

He got him to talk. James laughed and moved to the shower head right next to his.

"I couldn't help but notice that you've been avoiding me."

Cristiano rubbed soap onto his chest, looked to James irritated. "I'm the one avoiding?"

"Uh, yeah." James had his own voice coated in attitude, squirted some of the gel into his palm. "I'm not the blind one though, and I saw you staring." He turned away and rubbed it into his own chest. Cristiano reddened.

"I wasn't staring." he defended, but his voice had gotten weaker. James sensed his victory.

"Care for an explanation?"

"Not really."

"That was rhetorical." and he bumped Cristiano's hip, ended up under the same shower head as him to prove his seriousness.

Cristiano quieted. Didn't offer anything.

James scanned his head for ideas, pressed his lips into Cristiano's shoulder. Spit the suds out into the drain.

"Crissy please? I don't want you to be sad." he mumbled, but Crissy moved over the next shower and turned it on. James pouted. "What the fuck is wrong Cristiano?"

Cristiano still ignored.

"Do you not want this resolv-"

"Only you can resolve it. It's your fucking fan base."

"Fan ba- who? The players?"

"The fucking fan base that follows you around all the time. I can't believe you haven't suffocated yet, all those mouths and arms and legs squishing you from the inside out."

James smiled. Cristiano grew angrier. There was nothing to smile about.

"What?" he snapped.

"You're jealous?"

He opened his mouth in disbelief, froze in his spot. "Jea- me? Jealo- I am not."

"Oh but I think you are." James laughed again and grabbed his towel to leave. Cristiano snapped his off too and ran after him.

"I'm not fucking…. I'm not."

James shrugged. "Ok."

"I'm not!"

"I never said you were, Crissy. I believe you."

Cristiano stood behind a dressing James, the water on his body dripping down. "It's just- irritating. Like what do they even want from you all the time? Is it all that important? Like we're fucking and I don't even have that many questions."

"They're just nice, they wanna know about me."

"Yeah well, they're not supposed to. They're not close to you. Not like me. Like don't you ever get annoyed? I'd get annoyed."

"You are annoyed."

"Well yeah I fucking am. Because maybe- like maybe I wanna do stuff and I can't because they're in the way. Don't they have a sense of personal space?"

James turned around, leaned against the lockers.

"What do you have in mind that you can't do with them there?"

Cristiano shifted, unsure if he wanted to tel- "Because maybe sometimes I want to push you against the wall before the game starts and receive my good luck, but I can't exactly do that when you have half of Madrid around you." he blurted. James smiled and crossed the bench to get to him.

"You can always push me against walls, Crissy. Brick, plastic, rock. Whatever kind, you grab me by the collar and shove away." he mumbled jokingly, wrapped his arms around Cristiano's naked torso. Cristiano didn't loosen up.

"Can't you get rid of them more often. I can't run on the two ounces of physical contact you give me every month."

"I give you more-" James muttered his cheek squished into Cristiano's neck.

"Gallons. I want gallons and all those people-"

"Alright, alright. I'll give you gallons and gallons of everything you want, just don't be mad anymore. And save me from Isco." he kissed him, Cristiano finally smiled.

"It's kinda funny to watch though. He's really into it."

James raised his eyebrows and pulled away. "It's not. Do not ever leave me stranded with him."

Cristiano laughed and pulled him back into a hug. James arched a little away, got his smile on his face and Cris knew he was going to be a smart ass in ten sec-

"I'll give you gallons under one condition. You admit that you were jeal-"

Cristiano slapped his hand onto James' mouth.

"Fine. I was. Just- just don't say that word."


End file.
